


Five Times Leonard McCoy Broke Out the Eyebrow of Doom, and One Time He Didn't Have To

by dammitjimimadoctor



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Academy Era, Angst, BAMF Bones, Bones swears a lot so look out, Bromance, But Nothing Super sexual, Crew as Family, Dammit Jim, Established McKirk, Eyebrow BINGO, Five Year Mission, Friendship, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Humor, Injured!Bones, Jim's kind of an idiot, M/M, Mildly Suggestive, Paintball, Slash, hurt!Bones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 16:06:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3416957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dammitjimimadoctor/pseuds/dammitjimimadoctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fives times Jim was Jim, Bones was Bones, and McCoy's eyebrow was the one thing standing between him and certain death. Or pain. Or humiliation.  (In other words, the Eyebrow was the only way to keep an idiotic Jim Kirk in line).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You've Gotta Be Kidding Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I am a long-time McKirk shipper, and I was inspired by the lovely wibblywobblytimeywimeystuff to finally write one of my own. All constructive criticism and feedback is encouraged! This is my first-ever fic, so here's to hoping I do our lovely boys justice! :)

-1-

“C’mon Bones, it’ll be fuuuuuun.” Leonard refused to look up from the hypos he was cataloging. If he had a credit for every time the infant said that exact phrase and then things immediately went to hell (IMMEDIATELY! Surely it breaks a law of statistics, or probability, or nature, or- Leonard made a note to ask the hobgoblin later), he could quit Starfleet and retire with a lifetime supply of Romulan Ale.

Unfortunately, they had yet to find a planet whose monetary system involved wishful thinking.

Leonard shook his head ruefully, still taking refuge in his medical supplies. Looking up was not an option. Looking up meant making eye contact with Jim Kirk. Looking up meant subjecting himself to those beautiful baby blues, widened with puppy-dog-like excitement. (Because of course they were. Leonard had known Jim for far too long to believe that his best friend wasn’t trying to manipulate him. Damn puppy dog eyes.) Looking up meant...

...well…

It just wasn’t an option.

 

“Bones. Bones Bones Bones Bones. Boooooooooones. bonesbonesbonesbones. Oh Bonesyyy-”

“Jesus CHRIST, Jim, ENOUGH!” Leonard whirled around to glare at Jim, hypo raised in his hand. And sure enough, there were those sad, pathetic eyes.

 

Dammit.

 

Jim’s eyes widened in fear when he saw Leonard’s weapon of choice. “Uh, okay, Bones, let’s not be too hasty here.” He waited until Leonard reluctantly lowered the hypo back onto the table. “All I’m trying to say is that implementing some shipwide games might promote mental health and allow the crew to blow off some steam. We’re only 6 months into our five year mission, and we BOTH know the entire ship is getting antsy. Or did you already forget what happened with Ensign Rosse and that tribble?”

Leonard winced. That had definitely been one of the more...memorable days in his surgery.

Much as Leonard hated to admit it, Jim did have a point. And, as CMO, it was his responsibility not only to ensure the physical well being of his shipmates, but also their continued health in terms of mental and emotional states. Leonard heaved a huge sigh. Let’s face it, no matter how much he protested, these conversations always ended in him going along with Jim’s schemes. (“-snort- SCHEMES?” “Yes, Bones, scheeeeemes.” “Dammit, Jim, I’m a doctor, not a supervillain! Why the hell do I have to call them... scheeeemes?!” “Shut up or I’ll make you do the maniacal laugh, too!” “Jesus Christ on a cracker…”)

“Alright, Jim. Fine. You win. If I let you tell me what you have in mind, can I go back to cataloging my supplies before another crisis pops up on this damn tin can?”

Jim smirked.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Unbelievable. 

Unbe-FUCKING-lievable. 

 

Here he was, scrambling for cover behind a fucking PLANT, for crying out loud, while the sound of shots being fired rang through the air. “Okay, Doc, now would be an EXCELLENT time to come up with a plan! I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up!”

Leonard barely heard Lt Sulu, currently trying to hold off the invaders, so intent was he on muttering to himself. “When I find that fool, hard-headed, son of a bitch INFANT I am going to invent new diseases JUST so I can hypo him against them. I mean, how could it have possibly gone so wrong?!”

“Hey Bones! Miss me?!”

 

JIM. 

 

Leonard’s eyes narrowed as he looked toward the infant in question, reappeared from God only knew where. Deliberately, oh so deliberately, he unfolded himself from behind his leafy excuse for cover, a scowl forming on his face. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, kid.”

Jim’s face began to take on a panicked look. The Captain was cocky, yes, but he wasn’t suicidal. And Bones looked like he was out for blood.

Leonard noticed how silent the rec room had gotten. All of the other crew members, covered in ridiculous amounts of paint, were frozen, watching their Captain and CMO face off. “Bones. Bones, come on, I’m sorry, okay? I mean, yes, I TOLD the other teams that whoever got you first could get a week’s worth of water rations, but it was all in good fun, right Bones? If you hadn’t-”

“You’re babbling, Jim.” Leonard raised his eyebrow. Jim knew the one. The eyebrow that said he had two seconds to shut up or risk incurring the wrath of one Doctor Leonard McCoy. 

Jim shut up.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his crew begin to inch away from him. NO ONE wanted to be around when the Doctor was angry. Standing next to Jim in front of an vengeful Doctor McCoy would be like standing on top of a lightning rod during a thunderstorm.

He slowly put his paintball gun on the ground. “Okay, Bones, I think this has been enough excitement for one day, don’t you?" Jim flashed his patented Captain smile in an attempt to mask his unease. "I’ll go ahead and just send the message through the ship’s system now.” Jim turned towards the intercom mounted on the wall. 

In that instant, he made his fatal mistake. The moment Jim’s back was turned, Leonard saw his chance and took it.

“YEOWCH! BONES! What the hell? The game was over!!”

Leonard smirked at the bright patch of blue splattered on Jim’s chest. “No, Jimmy-boy. NOW it’s over.”

Leonard sauntered out of the rec room, but not before merrily calling over his shoulder “And don’t forget, I’ll see you at 1400 for your weekly allergy shots!”

Jim whimpered.

Hah. That’ll teach HIM to mess with the eyebrow.


	2. Eyebrow Bingo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The game's afoot as Jim tries to take on The Eyebrow.

-2-

It’s _watching_ him.

There he is, just sitting there, innocently trying to do his Xenocultures and Customs homework (“Bones. It’s _awesome_! I’ve already learned five different ways to ask for sex on other planets!” “What in the name of God’s green earth possessed those instructors to teach y’all how to ask for sex?!” “Well, I mean, they told us so that we’d know what to avoid, but come on, man, how can I NOT use that knowledge? It’s, like, part of the Grand Design!” “Dammit, Jim, if you start speaking in capitals, I’ll-”)

Jim is startled out of his spiraling thought process when Bones snorts at whatever he’s reading. “Uh, Bones?” he asks his friend, craning his neck to see what’s on the PADD, “I’m sure YOU find ‘Involvement of the Amygdala in Stimulus-Reward Associations’ to be absolutely hysterical, but maybe you could share the joke?”

Bones shakes his head. “Nah, no joke. It’s just ridiculous the barbaric ways they studied the brain back then- they’d just blindly crack open someone’s head and root around in there without so much as a how-do-you-do!” Bones goes back to the journal article, and Jim continues to stare at his best friend.

Yep.

There it is.

Still watching him.

 

Jim pushes back from the desk and slowly rises from his seat. He swears the evil thing is tracking his progress.

Jim dodges and weaves around the library, trying to throw IT off. After all, he’s James T. Kirk. Master tactician, expert in hand-to-hand combat, heavily trained in stealth operations. There is no way that he is going to let himself be bested by this…

this…

 _eyebrow_.

 

He ducks out of sight under a nearby table. Maybe, if he can’t see IT, IT can’t see him.

 

 

“Jim?”

 

 

Jim screams (a very manly scream, NOT a high-pitched little girl scream _soshutupBones_ ) and jerks upward, banging his head on the table.

“You’re a goddamn moron, you know that?”

Jim opens his eyes to see his friend looking down at him, a smirk on his face and that STUPID eyebrow arched up to his hairline. And at that moment, James Tiberius Kirk has a stroke of genius- why not turn the tables and become the eyebrow watch- _er_ instead of the eyebrow watch- _ee_. And just like that, Jim has a Plan.

Yep. Plan with a capital “P.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Operation Take-Down-the-Eyebrow-or-Go-Down-In-a-Blaze-of-Humiliation begins easily enough. Jim being Jim, he decides to turn Operation TDtEoGDIaBoH into a game of Bingo (if for no other reason than the fact that Eyebrow Bingo is much easier to say than Operation TDtEoGDIaBoH, and Jim was not the cadet with the talented tongue).  
\-------  
He spots the seductive eyebrow one night at the local bar, aimed at a gorgeous redhead two seats down who is sipping what looks to be Kentucky’s finest. Bones never could resist a chick who could hold her alcohol, and Jim smirks as his friend gives her the ol’ hey-darlin’-what-brings-a-lovely-thing-like-you-here-all-by-yourself eyebrow.

Damn that Southern charm.  
\-----  
The skeptic eyebrow reveals itself during their first shared hand-to-hand combat class when Bones goes to check the first aid kit sitting in the corner.

“Cadet McCoy, please return to the-”

“That’s _Doctor_ McCoy to you, dammit. Why on earth are there still needles in here? Honest-to-God, stitch-up-a-cadet-like-a-patchwork-quilt NEEDLES!”

“Cadet-”

“ _ **Doctor**_.”

“ ** _McCoy_** , this class is designed to be a relatively safe training environment. I can’t remember the last time we needed to use _anything_ in that first aid kit.”

Jim counts down- three, two, one, and yep.

There it is. The you-must-be-an-absolute-moron -if-you-think-I’m-going-to-believe-that -for-one-goddamn-second eyebrow. Jim makes a mental note to mark his Bingo card when he gets back to his room.

 

\------------

Jim decides to go on the offensive, deliberately drawing out the various incarnations of The Eyebrow.

The surprised eyebrow is easy enough. Jim simply waits until Leonard leaves for his shift at the clinic and then paints the walls.

Bright pink.

With sparkles.

(He can always repaint them later, right?)

\---------

 

The amused eyebrow also appears easily. It seems that all Jim has to do is embarrass himself, which he is totally willing to do in the name of a good Plan. So Jim puts on a robe and starts walking around, speaking only in Elvish. Although, come to think of it, he MIGHT be mistaking Bones’s you-need-a-psych-consult eyebrow for his amused one. Eh, same difference.

 

Finally, finally, Jim can see the end in sight for Operation TDtEoGDIaBoH. All he needs is the angry eyebrow.

Wait, what?

Jim looks down at the card, and, sure enough, there’s a glaring empty white square. But...but… that’s Bones’s THING. He’s the grumpy doctor with the angry eyebrow! How could Bones possibly have gone for _three whole days_ without it?!

A cold feeling of dread begins to wash over Jim as he realizes-

He’s been played.

 _Him!_ Master tactician, future captain, all around awesome dude!

 _"Bones knows_ ," he thinks to himself. Jim looks around frantically but doesn’t see the doctor anywhere. " _Of course not, dummy. You’re in your bedroom, with the door closed. He’s not magic!_ ”

 

“Boo.”

 

Once again, Jim screams a (very manly) scream and dives under the bed.

“Oh my God, Jim, the look on your face, and I got it on HOLOCAM and this is definitely getting posted to every single student forum I can find.”

Jim sheepishly abandons his cover and stands up, only to see his roommate practically in _tears_ from laughing so hard.

“And you FELL for it- you were so obsessed watching my eyebrow, and seriously Jim, what the hell is that because I am NOT going to be involved with any of your kinky shit-”

“Bones. BONES! It’s not like that, okay? I just...it just…”

Bones wipes tears off his cheeks, still chuckling. “Come on, kid, spit it out. It can’t be THAT bad.”

 

...

 

 

"youreyebrowhasbeenwatchingme."

 

 

“What?”

 

"your _eyebrow_ hasbeen _WATCHING_ me."

 

“Wait, someone’s been watching you? Like a stalker? Jesus Christ, Jim, we need to tell Pike-”

“Your EYEBROW, Bones! It’s been watching me! Following me around like some creepy...creepy…”

“Eyebrow?” Bones bursts out laughing again.

“I’m SERIOUS, Bones! And so I thought I could turn the tables on it, you know, watch it so much that IT would get freaked out instead of me and-”

“Jesus Christ Jim, it’s an EYEBROW! It’s a line of HAIR! There is no master plan, and there is definitely no watching! You need to get this idea out of that fool head of yours, okay?”

 

…

 

“ _Okay?_ ”

“Fine, Bones.”

“Good. Now that that’s settled, you up for Thai food?” They walk together into the common room to get their jackets, and Jim follow Bones out into the night.

 

But Jim knows.

 

IT is still watching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This...turned out a little weirder than I planned. That's also probably why it feels kind of disjointed. Still, I hope y'all enjoy it!
> 
> Also, the paper Bones is reading is real (published in 1989)- it's one I had to muddle through for school. It's at this address if you're interested: http://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/0306452289903540


	3. Revenge and Blue Skies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so I'm back! From outer space!
> 
> Okay, guys, I've had this half-written forever, so I finally just decided to finish it off in one long chunk. Apologies for any OOC moments, grammar mistakes, and nonsensical plot points.
> 
> Absolutely no apologies for general tom-foolery.
> 
> Warning for cursing! (Because Bones). There's a LOT this time.

-3-

Leonard McCoy is in a good mood.  He’s finally out in the open, away from that flying tin can, basking in the sun the way his granddaddy’s old hound always did.  This mission is a cakewalk: come down to a gorgeous planet and take some samples from the various alien flora to see if any of the plants might have possible medical applications.  Leonard lets his gaze wander, allows himself to take in the scenery.  

 

Off in the distance, he sees a massive cliff face rising from the ground.  There’s a field of blue wildflowers (or at least that’s what they look like- with his luck they’d turn out to be sentient, or carnivorous, or full of sex pollen. Last time he had to treat almost the entire goddamn crew for KNIFE wounds, for crying out loud!)

 

Still, those flowers/beings/monsters/inhibition-lowerers are awfully pretty, a brilliant blue that reminds him of Jim’s eyes.

 

…

 

Where did THAT come from?

 

Leonard shakes off all thoughts of Jim’s eyes (gorgeous eyes, that he could just fall into forever andDAMMITLeonardgetaholdofyourself!), and blames his brief lapse into sentimentality on the fresh air and sunshine.

 

Yep.

 

That’s definitely it.

 

He looks around for his colleagues, only to find himself quite a ways away from the others.  Spock has drifted away from the landing site to look at this spikey green eggplant thing, and Lt Sulu has found a plant that changes colors every time he touches it.  As for Jim…

 

Huh...

 

...Where’d he go?  

 

Suddenly, Leonard gets pushed in the back.

 

“Race you to the cliff, old man!”

 

He really should stop leaving himself wide open for the idiot’s antics.

 

Still. It’s a beautiful day, a challenge has been issued, and Leonard will be _damned_ before he lets the infant best him in a race.  “Old man” indeed. Hmph.

 

Leonard takes off running after Jim, laughing for the sheer joy of it.  He can’t remember the last time he felt this _free_.  No worries, no metal death trap, just him and the ground and the sky and nothing boxing him in.

 

And then Leonard falls into a hole.  Irony can be **_such_** a bitch.

 

***********************************************************************

  
  
  


Jim’s sprinting along, listening to Bones whooping and laughing behind him, when suddenly all he can hear is his own breathing.  He stops dead in his tracks and whirls around. Bones is gone.

 

Shit.

 

Okay. Options. Beamed up by an alien transporter.  Beamed up by the Enterprise’s transporter.  Sucked into a parallel universe. Fallen into a different time.  Eaten by an invisible monster.  Transformed into one of the flowers-

 

“DAMMIT, Jim, this planet was supposed to be UNINHABITED!”

 

Jim’s jaw drops.  No. Way.  He stares down at the large blue flower in front of him.  Was it there before?  All the blue flowers look alike!

 

“Uh...Bones…?

 

Oh my God his best friend has turned into a flower and Jim’s always been really bad with plants and what if he forgets to water it and then Bones dies and it’s all his fault!

 

“Oh, Bones,” he sighs softly, cupping one soft petal. “I am so so sorry.”

 

“Where are you, you moron?!  I could definitely use some help here!”

 

Jim looks up, startled, that his friend’s voice seems to be coming from about 20 yards away, where a hole has magically opened up in the ground.

 

Oh.

 

_Oh._

 

Jim quickly straightens, hoping like hell no one saw him petting a freaking FLOWER, and runs over to the hole.

 

***************************************************************************************

 

As Leonard continues to shout, hoping that _someone_ will hear him (the damn hobgoblin, at the very least, with his stupid super sensitive pointy ears), he mentally takes stock of himself.

 

He’s lying at the bottom of a hole in the dirt, which, he can see now, had been carefully disguised by a layer of grass laid over the top.  A trap.  A _man-made_ trap.

 

Plenty of time to yell at Jim later.  For now, what kind of injuries is he looking at?

 

Headache.  Fuzzy brain.  Light concussion, at least.

 

Left leg lying at an unnatural angle, starting to bruise and swell.  Probably broken femur.  Doesn’t hurt, though.  (Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows that this is a bad thing).

 

And, last but certainly not least, (because god forbid he ever forgo the goddamn icing on the goddamn cake) every single breath makes him feel like he’s being stabbed in the chest.  Bruised, maybe even cracked ribs.  Fan-fucking-tastic.

 

It’s nice to know he can still curse, though.  That takes true talent.  Not to mention, it’s helping to keep him focused.  Angry at the world is SO much better than panicking. Or unconsciousness.

 

Wincing, Leonard pulls himself into a sitting position.  Well, close enough.  Let’s try and salvage _some_ dignity from all this, hmm?

  


Jim finally runs up to the top of the hole, yelling about sentient flowers.

 

Great.

 

Now we can add hallucinations to the list.

 

...

 

But at least he can yell at a hallucination.  Particularly a Jim-shaped hallucination.

  


“Jesus, Jim, who ran the scans on this planet, because they definitely need a lesson or two in, oh, I don’t know, telling the difference between _no_ people on a planet versus **_goddamn people on a planet_**.  It can’t be hard.  One gives you a blank scan, the other has lots of little dots for life signs.  Maybe your scan operator is blind!  I think I broke my goddamn leg- can the scans detect THAT?!  When I get back up to the ship, whoever failed to notice that someone-”

 

*************************************************************

 

As Bones settles in for what looks to be a long rant, Jim feels the tension drain out of his body.  Bones _has_ to be fine if he feels good enough to rant, right?  He looks down at his friend.   I mean, yeah, his leg looks a little weird, but broken legs hurt.  He distinctly remembers falling out of a tree and breaking his leg when he was younger, not to mention that skirmish last year when the natives of an ice planet captured Chekov and tried to shave his (adorable) curly hair.  So, since Bones is not screaming in pain, Bones is exaggerating to make the most out of his rant.

 

Therefore, Jim is perfectly within his right to tease Bones.  Ipso facto, QED, and all that jazz.

 

A smile spreads over his face as he has a ridiculous thought.

 

“Bones! Hey Bones!”

 

Bones stops mid-rant and looks up at Jim.  Jesus, if looks could kill, Jim would be just a scorched pile of captain ashes lying on the ground.

 

Still.  Never let it be said that James Tiberius Kirk kowtows to bullies.

 

“Ohmigod, Bones! You broke your leg?!  You know what that means?! You’re my BROKEN BONES, BONES!  Jeez, Bones, maybe you should look where you’re going next time.  The bones of Bones are broken bones! Bones’s broken-”

 

Jim’s still staring down at his friend when all of a sudden, Bones’s eyes roll up and he slumps down to the ground.

 

Shit.

 

********************************************************************************

 

Leonard slowly surfaces from sleep.  He’s very warm and comfortable.  There’s a steady beep in the background, coming from his left somewhere…

 

...his heart rate!

 

Which means…

 

Leonard’s eyes snap open to see his Sickbay.  His beautiful, wonderful, clean Sickbay- his domain, his oasis in a rattling death trap of a tin can.

 

And WHAT is that godawful sound?!

 

He turns his head to find his idiot of a captain, head on the biobed. snoring like there’s no tomorrow.  And drooling.  Dammit, where’s his PADD?! This is excellent blackmail material!”

 

“So,” he drawls, “I guess I should be glad no one came at us with spears.”

 

Jim jerks awake, already in panic mode as he jumps up from his chair and starts to dart around the room.  “Oh my GOD, Bones are you okay? Should I get Christine?!  Are you thirsty?  How about I get you some ice chips.  Are you cold? I can go get another blanket too, if you want.  Bones, I am SO sorry, I would never have teased you if I knew that you were actually injured! Where’s the pain? Does it hurt? Let me go-”

 

“Jesus _Christ_ , kid, you’re making me exhausted just _watchin’_ you! _**SIDDOWN!**_ ”

  


Jim sits.

  


“So, yeah, um, the planet was, in fact, not uninhabited, so, uh, good call there, I guess?  Spock and Uhura are down on the planet right now trying to make first contact with the natives.  Now that, you know, we know they exist.  Apparently they hunt some weird cat-thing for food?  You fell into one of the traps, and, um, do you actually remember anything?”

 

“Well, Jimbo,” Leonard drawls out slowly, “It’s all kind of a blur.  I remember running, and flowers, and falling, and then I woke up here.”

 

That is a total lie.  Leonard remembers **_exactly_** what happened.  He can’t believe that sonofabitch didn’t believe he was hurt!  (He’s a fucking doctor! He knows what injuries feel like!  Did Jim think all of those years of medical school were to train him in dispensing hypos ninja-style?  THAT was a skill he picked up all on his own, chasing after infant captains scared of a tiny vaccine booster, thank you very much.)  And then…

 

THEN.

 

That idiot called him a BROKEN FUCKING BONES.

 

It’s definitely payback time.

 

“Well, uh, yeah Bones, that’s basically what happened.  I found you and called for an emergency beam-up, and, um, that’s it.  Yes.  Nothing else.”

 

Leonard is having way too much fun watching Jim sweat.  He cocks an eyebrow and, in the most innocent voice he can muster, asks Jim to lean over so that he can tell him something important.

 

Jim looks around knowingly and nods.  “Don’t worry, Bones, I understand not wanting to let all of Sickbay hear something private.”  Jim leans in until his face is only about 6 inches away from Leonard’s.

 

Leonard slaps the idiot upside the head.

 

  
Damn, that felt good.


	4. Facing Down the Doctor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Established McKirk, this time!
> 
> Warnings for swearing, because Bones.
> 
> Also a blink-and-you'll-miss-it mention of Tarsus, in a lighthearted context (I joke about bad things. It's a coping mechanism).
> 
> Finally, there's also a mildly suggestive joke.
> 
> Now, without further ado...

-4-

 

“Pleeeeeeeeease.”

 

“No.”

 

“Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease.”

 

“ _No_.”

 

Honestly.  Jim never asks for _anything_.  He’s the perfect husband.  Of course he is- he’s Jim Kirk.  He’s awesome at everything!  But the _one time_ Jim asks for unconditional support and trust (that time in the cadet bar doesn’t count) (neither does that situation from shore leave on Risa) (or that time when Jim decided he HAD to paint all the Enterprise corridors blue “to make the crew more peaceful, Bones, you of all people should want to relieve the crew’s stress”)-

  


…

  


Well, okay, come to think of it, he _has_ put Bones through kind of a lot.

 

Still.

 

That is absolutely no excuse for Bones to be acting all...Bones-y.

 

“Two words, Jim. The **_Bribble Incident_**.”

 

“That was ONE TIME, Bones, and who could possibly have known that putting a bunny rabbit and a tribble in the same cage would have resulted in...that...-”

 

“ ** _I_** did, Jim, that is _exactly_ my-”

 

“-AND we were never ever _ever_ gonna talk about it again. Traitor.”

  


Jim glares at his husband.

 

Bones, in lieu of actually responding, lifts an eyebrow.

 

 

 

 

 

Uh oh.

 

 

 

 

 

Jim knows that look.

 

 

 

 

 

That’s the patented James-Tiberius-Kirk-if-you-don’t-shut-the-hell-up-right-now-I-swear-to-God-I-will-break-my-Hippocratic-Oath-and-END-you eyebrow.

 

 

 

 

 

Of _**doom**_.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Time to rethink his strategy.

 

 

 

 

 

Not a problem. He’s faced Klingons, Romulans, robots, Khan-

 

“James Kirk, are you **_strategizing_**?!”

 

Damn.

 

Thinking quickly, Jim flashes his biggest smile at his husband and holds up the subject of contention.

 

The little black and white kitten blinks at Bones with big eyes.

 

“God _dammit_ , Jim. **NO!** ”

 

“Ya know, Bones, we could totally name this one ‘no’.  And this one is ‘dammit’ and this one is ‘God,’ oh I hope that doesn’t give him too much of an ego, and this one-” Jim points to the runt of the litter that they found under their porch steps, the scrawniest, raggedy-est, and dirtiest little kitten Jim has ever seen- “is Jim.”

 

“No.”

 

“Didja hear that, No?  Daddy Bones ALREADY wants to give you some attention!”

 

“Jim-”

 

“Huh, that’s gonna get confusing.  Maybe little Jim and, uh, _big_ Jim...?”  Jim waggles his eyebrows suggestively at his husband.

 

Leonard shakes his head, but Jim can see that he’s holding back a smile.

 

Time to bring out the big guns.  “Plus, Bones, look how _skinny_ they are.  God knows how long they’ve been there; they’re literally starving, Bones. _Starving_.”

 

Jim widens his own eyes and tries to look as pathetic as possible.  Yes, reminding his husband of Jim’s own past experiences with hunger is low.  No, Jim doesn’t feel bad about it.  

 

It’s for a Good Cause.

 

Bones’s eyes soften, and he gently grabs Jim by the hand.

 

And then he flicks Jim on the nose.  “That’s low, kid.  That’s real low.”  But Bones is smiling, and Jim’s pretty sure he’s won.

 

Jim subtly angles the box of kittens until Bones is assaulted by big sad eyes from all sides.  

 

“Fine. But YOU get to train them, and clean the litterbox, and make sure they don’t scratch the house to kingdom come.”

 

“YES, Bones,  thankyouthankyouthankyou!”

 

Jim has totally won.  Thank you, Starfleet training.  Thank you, history of tactics classes.  Thank you, every bad guy Jim has ever had to match wits against, because He. Has. Won.

 

With a mischievous look in his eyes, Bones picks up the tiniest kitten.  “I’ll go clean up Big Jim, then.”

 

Jim beams for a second, and then his brain catches up to his ears. “Wait, why am **_I_** little Jim? What exactly are you saying, Bones?  Bones?! **BONES!** ”

 

Jim is totally still gonna count this as a win.

 

 


	5. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, this definitely took a darker turn than I intended. Oops :P

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for language, slightly graphic injury descriptions, and angst.

Leonard Horatio McCoy, MD, PhD, does not get paid enough for this.  He is a _doctor_ , dammit, not a baby-sitter.  He’s supposed to be keeping people happy and _alive_.

 

Leonard is seriously rethinking that last part.

 

“James Tiberius Kirk, are you trying to _**sneak out**_ of my sickbay?”

 

“Oh, hey Bones, I was-”

 

“Don’t you ‘hey Bones’ me, you moron. You are _supposed_ to be **resting**. In bed. Lying **down**. Now _**GIT!**_ ”

 

Leonard sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose because, oh yes, that is in fact a migraine that he feels coming on.  He doesn’t even know why he’s surprised- Jim pulls this stunt every time.  God forbid he actually take the time to recover from getting stabbed in the abdomen.  Leonard is a good doctor, but he is by no means infallible.  For a second, he once again sees Jim as he was beamed aboard, an honest-to-God spear sticking straight up out of his belly, bright red blood staining everything, with the occasional splash of green mixed in. (And isn’t that just like the damn hobgoblin, completely ignoring his own injuries until Leonard ended up all but catching Spock as his legs finally gave out.)

 

Jesus, that had been a lot of blood.

 

And, like always, he had rushed Jim into surgery, barking orders and desperately blocking out the fact that it was his _**best friend**_ lying there on the table, not moving, covered in glistening scarlet.  And, like always (and pleaseGodletitbealways, Leonard can’t even begin to think about the day when it won’t be enough), Bones had come through for his Jim.

 

And then Bones had needed two fingers of Kentucky’s finest.

 

Now, of course, with Jim all patched up, most of the regen work complete, and a hypo full of painkillers, Jim is ready to carry on like nothing JESUSFUCKINGCHRISTHE’STRYINGITAGAIN.

 

This is the third fucking time in only _**45 minutes**_ that Jim has tried to sneak back to his precious bridge, and Leonard is done.

 

“Jim. _Please_.”

 

Jim freezes, his legs halfway off of the biobed, and slowly raises his eyes to meet Leonard’s.

 

Len isn’t sure what finally does it. Maybe those painkillers are finally kicking in and making Jim feel tired. Maybe those painkillers are wearing off and making it painful to move.  Hell, maybe Jim has finally decided, for once in his goddamn life, to actually _**behave**_.

 

Or maybe, just maybe, the kid finally decides to use that brain of his, that ability to read people that makes him the best captain in the fleet.  Maybe Jim realizes, as he meets the doctor’s eyes, that Leonard just needs to be able to **see** him, heart breathing, lungs filling, gloriously **alive**.

 

Soon, Jim can be discharged. Leonard will grumble and rant about how Jim should be staying at least another few days, Jim will promise to take it easy, and life will go on.

 

Just...not quite yet.

  
A thoughtful expression on his face, Jim settles back onto the biobed.


	6. I Never Even Told You

+1

 

Jim can’t quite remember when it _clicked_.

 

When Bones had snuck him onto the Enterprise all those years ago.  When Bones told him that he had xenopolycythemia- terminal. When Bones first came up to the bridge and stood beside the captain’s chair, complaining the entire time.

 

When Jim realized he had started counting his days in terms of Before Bones and After Bones.

 

Jim had fallen in love with his best friend.

 

Now, Jim is considered the best captain in all of Starfleet, but the idea of actually telling Bones how he felt and then ruining the best friendship he had ever had-

 

Well.

 

Jim would rather face an army of angry Klingons any day of the week.

 

The fact remained, however, that Jim had found the love of his life.  And there was _**no way**_ he was going to let anything happen to his Bones.

 

Which has led to Jim needing to take drastic measures.

 

“Bones, **no**. I know how much you hate using the transporter- you should be _HAPPY_.”

 

Bones is quite clearly **_not_** happy.

 

“Goddammit, Jim.  I _know_ I got hurt last time, but that wasn’t my fault and you know it!  And you’re beaming down into a **war zone** \- people are going to be hurt and helping them is. **My**. _**Job**_.”

 

“Doctor McCoy, I am making this an order, and it is not up for negotiation. You are staying on the ship and that is **final**.”  
  


Forget the Kobayashi Maru- forcing himself to meet Bones’s eyes is the hardest thing Jim has ever done.  Steely blue meets flashing hazel, and Jim refuses to back down.  Jim’s not an idiot- he can see how hurt Bones is by Jim pulling rank.  But the thought of letting Bones beam down, the idea that Bones might not be alive when he beams back up, makes Jim heart seize up in his chest.  Keeping Bones safe is worth it.

 

“Fine. Good luck. **_Captain_**.”  And Bones storms out of the transporter room.

 

Keeping Bones safe is worth it.

 

Jim sighs.

 

“Alright Mr Kyle. Energize.”

 

The transporter effect takes over and the away team disappears.

 

**************************************************************************

 

The planet shimmers into existence around Jim, Spock, and the three security ensigns.  Jim isn’t sure what he’s expecting, exactly.  Phaser fire.  Screams.  Blood and gore.  

 

But this?

 

The landing site is deserted.  And not in an everyone-has-managed-to-kill-everyone-else way.  No, the landing party has beamed into a clearing in the middle of a forest, sunlight dappling the ground, soft green grass underfoot and towering trees above.  It’s like they’re in a freaking fairy tale.

 

Jim has never been a fan of fairy tales.

 

“Mr Spock. Thoughts?”

 

“Captain, I am not picking up any humanoid life signs nearby, save for our own.  This is a direct contradiction with ship sensor readings just before beam town.  I recommend we beam back up to the ship for further evaluation.”

 

“I agree, Mr. Spock.  Something about this place just seems...off.”  Jim flips open his communicator.  “Mr Kyle, five to beam up.”

 

Silence.

 

“Mr Kyle?”

 

Nothing.

 

Spock brings out his own communicator.

 

“Enterprise, this is Commander Spock. Come in please.”

 

Jim and Spock share a look.  There are many reasons that they would be unable to make contact with the Enterprise, and while most are completely innocuous in theory, in practice Jim can’t think of a single occasion that actually led to a favorable outcome.

 

Jim looks up at the sky.  Somewhere up there is his ship, his crew, his doctor.

 

_Oh, Bones._

 

Jim can’t allow thoughts of Bones to cloud his judgement- that’s the whole reason he wanted the doctor to stay behind in the first place!  With no ship contact, they’re stranded.  Might as well see if they can figure out what’s going on on the ground.

 

“Alright, gentlemen.  Looks like we’ve got us a mystery.  Spock, do we know where we are in relation to the nearest city?”

 

“Affirmative, Captain. We are approximately five point two six four kilometers away from the closest population center.”

 

“Well, troops, you heard the man. Let’s move out!”

 

Jim spares one last glance to the sky.

 

_Oh Bones. Please. Stay safe._

 

******************************************************************************************

 

“Enterprise, come in please.”  Jim tries his communicator for what feels like the millionth time. (He resists the urge to ask Spock.)  They’ve been trying to hail the ship every 15 minutes since they left the clearing.

 

In the meantime, they’ve found the city Spock had detected.  Fortunately, Governor Pathrei is in the capitol building.

 

Unfortunately, Captain Jim Kirk has never met Governor Pathrei.

 

His ship has been in communication for the past two days with the supposed governor.  A video link is far from a perfect visual, but Jim is absolutely certain that the dark complexioned man he has been speaking with from the bridge of the Enterprise is not the same person as the fair skinned woman currently standing in front of him.

 

_“Captain Kirk, this is Enterprise. Do you read?”_

 

Jim almost drops his communicator in his haste to flip it open. “Enterprise, this is Kirk. What’s your status?”

 

“ _Captain, we’ve been boarded! It’s a long story-”_

 

“Explain later. Beam me up NOW!”

 

Jim hasn’t even finished speaking before the transporter effect takes over, and his ship shimmers into existence around him.

 

Chekov and Sulu are standing next to Mr Scott, who is working the transporter controls.  All three are sporting scrapes and bruises, Chekov is cradling his left arm, and Sulu is only putting weight on one leg, and all three start talking before Jim can even step off the transporter platform.

 

It takes a while, quite a bit of cooperation on the part of Governor Pathrei (the _real_ Governor Pathrei), and an intense interrogation of the six men in the brig, but Jim finally pieces together the whole truth.  Some group had tried to take control of the Enterprise- faking a planetary conflict, posing as the governor asking for mediation assistance, luring the Captain and First Officer off of the ship and beaming up while the shields were down.

 

It’s only hours later, after interrogations and interviews and debriefings, that Jim realizes he hasn’t seen Bones.

 

Bones, who has never missed a chance to berate Jim for missions-gone-wrong.

 

Bones, who always rushes into the transporter room when Jim beams up, to mutter about rearranged molecules and not-so-surreptitiously check Jim over for injuries.

 

Bones, who was _**supposed to be safe.**_

 

Heart in his throat, Jim breaks off talking to Lt Kyle mid-sentence, not even apologizing as he sprints for the turbolift that will take him to the sickbay.

 

The _**empty**_ sickbay.

 

Which is just WRONG. Where is Bones barking orders, patching up the crew who got injured defending the ship?  Jim starts to hyperventilate.  No. No no no no no.

 

Not Bones.

 

Among all the biobeds, Jim finally spies one that’s occupied.  Far in the corner, a white sheet is draped over a lump.

 

A _Bones-shaped_ lump.

 

It can’t be Bones.

 

Dazed, as if he’s in a dream, Jim starts to walk towards the bed in the corner.

 

Step.

 

Not Bones.

 

Step.

 

He can’t be gone.

 

Step.

 

Tears roll down his cheeks.

 

Step.

 

His fingers reach out and brush the sheet.

 

And Jim crumples to the ground. Bones is gone. _**Gone**_. And he never said- Jim never told him-

 

 

“Jim, why the hell are you crying over my new regenerator shipment?” A voice from the heavens.  That slow, sweet southern drawl that Jim knows better than his own name.

 

Hardly daring to breathe, Jim slowly looks up from the bed.

 

And there it is.

 

The eyebrow.

 

That glorious, amazing, super sexy eyebrow, slowly rising into his hairline.

 

A small scrape underneath, bandaged because Bones NEVER used the regenerator on himself until every other crew member was safe and patched up.

 

“Dammit, Jim, what’s wrong with you? Stop **STARING** at me! Did you hit your head on that godforsaken planet?”

 

Jim surges up, afraid to take his eyes off of that eyebrow.  His doctor.  His Bones.

 

“Bones! I- They- You weren’t-...I thought-... And I never said- I...I...”

 

Bones stares Jim at Jim- searching his face, his eyes.

 

And then Bones smiles. And that eyebrow takes on a wry quirk.

 

“Jim Kirk. You are a goddamn _moron_ , ya know that?"

 

He pulls Jim in close.  "I love you too, you idiot.”

 

And all is right with the world.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. This is the first thing that I have ever actually finished writing (I'm sort of a chronic stop-in-the-middle-and-move-on-to-something-else kind of person). I adore this fandom, this pairing, and these characters, and I do hope I've done them justice. Finally, I want to thank you all for sticking with me through the end. I have at least one other fic idea in the works, but I'd love suggestions. And as always, my dears,
> 
> Live Long and Prosper

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta-ed, so all mistakes/typos/egregious errors are my own. But feel free to point them out so I can go and fix them!


End file.
